


Hotel Management

by TrepidationChance



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Janitor AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrepidationChance/pseuds/TrepidationChance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three Days.<br/>What the fuck do you do in a hotel room for three days?<br/>Levi was about to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hotel Management

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is written for a friend, who likes this paring a lot.  
> I do to, so I had plenty of creative juices for this ship.  
> I always wondered what it would be like if Levi was a janitor, doing what he does best, other that killing titans.  
> I hope you like it!

Levi was annoyed.

It had been three days since that room was booked; over the phone it was the voice of a lady, asking for vacancies, but instead he had met a brat with messy brown hair and fuck, those eyes… One glance into those pools of green-blue could be the end of any straight man, Levi included.

Talking about his hair, strangely it reminded him of his love and passion, despite it looking chaotic. It resembled a mop, which he wanted to use to clean up any spills that he happened to come across. It was the perfect size to clean kitchen tiles and wooden floors, with the aid of his beloved cleaning products. They may bleach the shitty brat’s hair blonde, but what did it matter if the stains were to be polished clean…

No, wait, don’t stray off topic.

After that one chance meeting, Levi was neither graced with the presence of the kid, nor was he allowed to clean out his room. Every time he walked along the hallway of the sixth floor, he would always pass by that door with the ever familiar hanger swinging on the door knob.

**Do Not Disturb**

He understood that customers liked their privacy, that’s what hotels are for: a temporary room which can be used to do whatever shit they liked. The real problem lay with what the brat did in that room every night. The only evidence that he was actually using the room was the swinging hanger; almost as if the kid has swung the door shut just when he arrived on the floor. Three days, and Levi couldn’t bare it anymore.

_‘Sorry kid, but your chances have run out. I’m going to polish that room, whether you fucking like it or not.’_

He swiftly jammed the master key into the door and smashed it open. He marched in with the determination of a soldier and wheeled the trolley in. Levi immediately blanched. The stale stench of sweat was evident in the air as was the dust that tickled his nose. Scratch it, Levi wasn’t annoyed anymore. He was pissed off his mind.

_‘If he was going to use this room without room service, the least he could have done was make his living habits better. What is he? A fucking pig?’_

Ignoring the foul odour, he inspected the room, noticing that it actually wasn’t as messy as he thought. The rubbish was in the bin, the towels were washed and hanging dry and crumbs were not evident on the floor. Surprisingly, it seemed almost as if the room was untouched. The only mess that contrasted with the rest of the room was the bed.

The pillows were savagely torn, cotton spilling out of the mattress and bed sheets half ripped and falling onto the floor. In the middle of the carnage, the brat laid still, shallow breaths audible from across the room. He looked like an angel amidst all the disarray. He was curled in a vulnerable position, hugging the remains of a blanket.

Being careful not to wake up him up, Levi tiptoed towards the bed, picking up the tattered materials off the floor. He inched forward slowly, reaching over the kid, attempting to pluck out stray fluffs of cotton out of his hair when he met with those dreamy aquamarine eyes.

_‘Fuck, I’m screwed.’_

Before he could scramble backwards, away from the bed, a pair of arms linked around his neck, pulling him down into a firm chest. Blinking in surprise, he struggled against the hold, to no avail. The fucking brat had muscles; he had to admit that much. ‘Does he work out or something?’

”Mum . . . Don’t go . . .”

Faintly hearing the soft murmurings, he was snapped out of his train of thought; thankfully, before it ventured into dangerous grounds. Levi felt the arms clench painfully to his neck, almost strangling the breath out of his lungs. The previously shallow breathing became more erratic, constant shudders running along his arms. Looking up at the brat’s face, noticing he was covered in sweat. The smell coming from him was revolting to Levi, shivers running down his back.

_‘He probably hasn’t had a shower in weeks . . . Disgusting brat! I’m taking a fucking shower tonight!’_

“Please . . . Don’t . . . Dad . . .”

The desperate whispers continued, shaking Levi out of his momentary hyperventilation.

“Why . . . Mikasa . . . No . . .”

Somewhat surprised when the kid said a female name, he immediately linked it to the female who had originally booked the room. No, he shouldn’t make that assumption; even if it was most likely true . . . Wait a moment! That wasn’t the problem! Levi needed to get out of the tight hold before he was missed by his colleagues. He didn’t need more rumours to spread; it was bad enough that Hanji discovered his adoration for loofah sponges.

He resumed his struggle to get out the brat’s arms, only resulting the tightening to worsen. Giving up, Levi slumped against the kid, fighting against the urge to sigh out in defeat. At least he wasn’t being tackled by some hooker, out for his money. No, the kid had more class than that.

_‘Great. This is exactly what I need: a bloody brat clinging onto me. I don’t even know his name! If Hanji finds out, I’m never going to outlive the humiliation.’_

He continued this line of thought for another thirty minutes. Thirty fucking minutes! His arms and legs were cramping, begging for a stretch, a twitch; any movement would have been fine. That was the difficulty, though. How do you move so much of an inch if a bleary eyed boy wakes up, mistakes you for his father and cries in your shoulder? Zilch.

When the brat stopped sniffing, Levi finally released a sigh. He was glad he never decided to be a babysitter in his life. The arms around his neck finally loosened, allowing him to jump away from the bed, stretching his stiff limbs. Looking back at the kid, he noticed those familiar blue-green eyes staring at him in burning curiosity.

“It’s rude to stare, brat.” Levi piped, working a cramp out of his sore neck. This caused those eyes to dart away from the intimidating and remarkably short man, only for them to travel back to its previous target.

“Who are you?” a raw voice chirped. It was soft for a boy his size, not that Levi knew his age. For all he knew, he could have been a primary school kid with an early growth spurt.

“Who’s asking?”

“I just want to know who it was I clung onto for thirty minutes.”

This caused Levi’s eyebrows to rise. “Not bad. I’m Levi. Now answer my question.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’d like to know who it was that clung onto me for thirty minutes.”

“The name’s Eren. Eren Jaeger.”


End file.
